


Almost Doesn't Count

by impossiblepluto



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e08 Revenge + Catacombs + Le Fantome, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-30 02:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16756495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: Missing scene for Revenge + Catacombs + Le FantomeThe one where Mac tries to process what happened in the catacombs and Jack recognizes that his partner is headed for a breakdown





	Almost Doesn't Count

As soon as he heard Mac's voice Jack knew he'd made a mistake.

He'd known it days ago, when he first accepted this assignment to Brazil. He had known it the moment Matty had told him it would be a quick in and out mission. He should know better than to believe that. And Matty should know better than to say that out loud. No better way to doom the op.

The mission stretched on, and forced him into radio silence, which was never a good idea even under the best of circumstances. And certainly an even worse idea now.

Mac had been on edge, well, since he'd come back to the Phoenix. Longer, if Jack was honest with himself. It was a hard balance of giving the man the space he craved and the support he needed. Jack couldn't help but feel like he was failing.

And this latest mission reminded him of his failures. Jack felt sick when he realized he was going to miss the veteran's charity banquet. Mac had bought out a table in honor of his mentor. Alfred Pena's death still a source of vulnerability for MacGyver. At the time, Mac shoved that loss aside, burying it deep so he didn't have to face the fallout. But hurt like that couldn't stay buried forever and when it came crashing to the surface two years ago it left jagged edges and a gaping hole. A hole that Jack was worried Mac would lose himself in.

The team was great. He trusted them with Mac's life. This was different though. No matter how hard they tried to understand, or even how much they thought they understood, they couldn't. Not really. Jack was grateful for that. Grateful that neither Riley or Bozer had been in a war zone, day in day out. That they were safe and protected from those horrors.

He would give anything to have protected Mac from that.

Charlie understood in a way the others couldn't. He'd seen Mac spiraling after Pena's death. He could keep Mac from getting lost in his head. Jack would be eternally grateful that Charlie had been able to drop everything and back up Mac when The Ghost surfaced.  

Because Jack had been incommunicado during most of Mac's mission. He had no idea that Mac was facing off The Ghost. Again. That would be nightmare fuel for years to come.

He called as soon as he heard. His heart stopped when Bozer answered.

"Jack, Jack, he's fine!" Jack heard Bozer say over the rushing in his ears. "I mean, he's not fine, fine, but he's talking to Matty right now, moving under his own power, not in medical."

"Should he be?" Jack asked.

Bozer paused before he continued. "He got blown up twice, knocked out and lit on invisible fire. Plus he hasn't been sleeping so he's due for a pretty spectacular crash when he lets himself stop."

"Lit on invisible fire?"

"Yeah, it was pretty cool... except that Mac was on fire."

Bozer called Mac to the phone before Jack could ask anymore questions.

And Jack exaggerated ridiculous stories of his exploits on the mission, designed to help the kid relax. It did nothing to ease the worry crushing Jack's chest. He heard it underlying in Mac's tone, tension, desperation, self- flagellation, hidden under teasing banter. Mac's laugh too sharp. His comments had too much of an edge. Jack knew he had to get home.

Now, nearly twelve hours later, Jack squinted into the early morning sunshine. His sunglasses not doing nearly enough to prevent the glare from blinding his burning, gritty eyes.

Mac sat on an Adirondack chair on the deck. Blank eyes staring unseeingly ahead. Slow blinks became longer. His head bobbed before jerking upright and eyes snapped opened.

Jack saw the slump in Mac's shoulders. Stress and perceived failure weighing them down. His posture tense as though preparing for the world to crash down around him. Jack couldn't blame him for that. The world had crashed around him, multiple times in his young life. Time and again, Mac pulled himself from the rubble but Jack could see the cracks and chinks and little pieces of himself that were left behind each time.

"You sleep at all last night, kid?"

"Jack!" Mac looked up in surprise at his partner's voice. "You didn't mention you were coming home."

Jack shrugged, dropping into the chair next to Mac and scooting it closer.

"What can I say? I like surprise homecomings. It backfired on me once though. Flew all the way to Texas, on a weekend pass. Got myself a ride out to the ranch thinking I'd slip in just in time for one of Nana's breakfasts only to find out they'd gone to pick up some horses in Tennessee. Spent the whole weekend with just the ranch hands. Saw my grandparents long enough to kiss them goodbye and head back to base."

Mac smiled at Jack's story, the tension slowly bleeding from him.

Jack doesn't know when he first picked up on it. It was definitely after Afghanistan, but sometime before Cairo, the way taut shoulders relaxed when Jack launched into long rambly stories or stream of consciousness monologues.

No one would ever accuse Jack of being peaceful, but for Mac, his partner's presence and voice were a steadying force when his thoughts twisted and soothed the ragged edges of his mind.

"But I feel like I'm not the only one who left some stuff out of our conversation last night."

Mac had the good sense to look guilty at Jack's mild chiding.

"Come on, kid. What's eating you?"

Mac shook his head. "Nothing."

"That's why you're sitting out here at the ass crack of dawn?"

"I'm fine."

"And that's how I know you're not."

Mac rolled his eyes.

Jack stared at Mac with gentle eyes. He could see Mac's reservations crumble.

Mac took a deep shuddering breath and the words tumbled out.

"I didn't think I was going to be able to stop it. That bomb was big enough to vaporize blocks. Thousands of people were going to die. And I was down there panicking and..." Mac closed his eyes. "And being selfish."

"Hey, no, Mac. You were scared. That bomb was right on top of you. That's self-preservation. I've been trying to drill that into your thick skull since I met you." 

"That's not--" Mac shook his head. "I knew that I wasn't going to survive it. I didn't care that the bomb was going to go off."

Jack tried to school his expression into something neutral, but Mac must have seen him flinch at the words. 

Mac backpedaled. "I mean, I did care, but that's not what... I was going to die. There wasn't a way out. I was going to die and..." he swallowed hard. "And I wanted you there."

"That's not selfish either."

"If you'd been there, you would have died too!"

Jack put his hand on the back of Mac's neck. "First of all, that's not true, because you would figure it out. You did figure it out. And second, you go kaboom, I go kaboom. That's not just something I say. Something happens to you and I plan on following you pretty quickly to the great beyond."

Jack could see that Mac was so close to his breaking point. He pulled Mac close.

Mac pressed his forehead into Jack's shoulder. He inhaled deeply. Jack could feel him trembling.

"He built a bomb."

Jack's face twisted in confusion. "That's-- that's what he does."

"No." Mac pulled back and shook his head. "He built one for me. Again. The one that killed Pena was meant for me. The one under the house last Christmas, for me. And..." Mac's face crumpled. "There's another one out there. Somewhere. Waiting for me to find it." Mac scrubbed a hand across his face. "He said it was his best work. That I inspired him to improve."

Jack's jaw tightened. The bastard was lucky he was already dead. He gently squeezed the back of Mac's neck.

"What if I can't disarm it?"

"You can," Jack said simply.

"He's almost beaten me so many times..."

"That's a pretty key word there, hoss. Almost. Almost only counts in horse grenades."

Mac couldn't stop the laughter that erupted from somewhere deep inside him, expelling the rest of his tension in a burst.

Jack smiled, it was good to see Mac laugh again.

"I know you do that on purpose."

Jack shrugged. "A cheap laugh is still a laugh."

Mac settled back against the chair again. Moments ticked by and Mac's breathing deepened. Jack thought maybe he'd dozed off. He debated waking the kid to move him inside.

Mac shifted in his seat. His eyes flew open and he hissed as his back scraped against the chair.

"You still got the salve from your burns in New Orleans?"

"How did you...?"

"It's my job to know, Mac."

"Bozer," Mac muttered.

"Come on, let's go inside so I can look you over."

"They're not that bad this time."

"They'd better not be. Especially since you didn't have anybody look at them."

Jack pulled Mac to his feet, ushering him toward his bathroom. A single look from Jack had Mac reluctantly unbuttoning his shirt while Jack raided the medicine cabinet.

Mac hissed as the material stuck to his damaged skin.

"Don't pull, don't pull," Jack said, moving Mac's hands away. Jack carefully loosened the fabric and eased the shirt off Mac's shoulders. The skin pink and raw and surprisingly warm to the touch. There were some fluid filled blisters across his shoulders but it looked like most of them had opened. "Oh man, bud, that looks painful."

Mac shrugged.

Jack carefully bathed the damaged skin. He opened the jar of salve, putting it up to his nose to sniff at it.

Mac raised an eyebrow.

"This stuff is six months old, just checking to make sure it's still good," Jack explained.

"And you know how it would smell if it had gone bad?"

"I spent six weeks changing the dressings on your hands. I'd know if it didn't smell right. It's not a scent I'm going to forget. But I can take you in to medical if you don't want to chance it." Jack said innocently.

Mac shook his head vigorously. "No I'm sure it's fine."

Jack liberally coated Mac's burns and covered them lightly with gauze. Mac relaxed into his touch, eyes drooping.

"Come on bud," Jack said, leading Mac back into his bedroom. Mac sat on his bed while Jack rummaged through the dresser and pulled out a t-shirt for him, soft and worn. Mac pulled the shirt over his head while Jack closed the blinds. Mac started to protest but Jack stopped him.

"It's been, what forty-eight hours since you last slept?" He raised an eyebrow at Mac, daring him to deny it. "You need to get some rest. I need some rest. We'll get Bozer to make us breakfast when you wake up."

Reluctantly, Mac agreed, sliding under the covers.   
  
Jack helped him get settled and turned to head for the door.

"Jack," Mac called out tentatively. He bit his lip. "Will you stay?"

"Yeah, sure kiddo. Budge over, would ya." Jack slipped between the sheets.

"I haven't really been sleeping, since I came back," Mac explained slowly.

"Aw, Mac, why didn't you say something?"

"I just thought it would get better," Mac's voice soft. "I thought I could handle it." His voice trailed off as his breathing evened out.

Jack glanced over at his slumbering partner. He could kick himself. Mac was barreling toward a breakdown, had been since he'd come back. Had probably already been halfway there before he left. Jack could clearly see the signs that he'd been ignoring. "I'm sorry I let you down, Mac. I've been promising you for years that I'd be there for you, no matter what. And when you need me the most I wasn't there for you. No more separate missions. Where you go, I go." Jack vowed. "Whatever happens, I watch your back."

**Author's Note:**

> So that ending is suddenly ten times more angsty. Normally Jack promising to be there would be reassurances that everything is alright. Now it's just another broken promise to Mac and I'm crying.


End file.
